For My Son
by DreamALitteBiggerDarling
Summary: A missing scene from TLO where Michael Yew dies. Because Apollo does care. No matter how much he wishes he doesn't.


_**Disclaimer- I do not own PJO, or the characters. They belong to Rick Riordan. Please Review.=)**_

Typhon's roar shook the world as he swatted away Athena's attempt to attack. Apollo notched five flaming arrows, aimed them at the monsters heart, and let fly

Typhon bellowed in agony "Ha! Take that sucker!" Apollo cheered. But the monster pressed forward, only slightly dazed.

"Apollo!" A voice called, loud enough to be heard over the screaming wind.

"Coming Zeus!" Apollo sing-songed. His voice cocky as usual. But if you listened closely, you could detect an edge of uneasiness, and a hint of fear in the god's usually dazzling eyes.

With incredible precision, he plunged his golden chariot into the darkness that was Typhon, and came out beside Zeus, who had crafted a make-shift table out of thunderclouds.

He sat there now, with an agitated look, as Athena rambled on about Typhon being a ploy and other stuff like that. She had a nice size knot on her head, yet still managed to scowl when she saw the sun man.

"Apollo, I need you to do me a favor." Zeus said. "We were going to send Hermes with a message for the heroes, but before we do, I want you to take your chariot and check on the kids."

"You got it chief," Apollo mock saluted him, but Zeus didn't seem to catch the mocking part. Apollo snapped his fingers, and the chariot faded from super nova bright, to the glow of sunset.

"And remember Apollo, being the god of prophecies, you know as well as I do, you don't mess with a demi-gods fate. So not interfering." Zeus said sternly.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." And the sun god flew off, mumbling something about a certain Lord of the Sky having no sense of humor.

Apollo Pov. ************************************************************ Apollo Pov.

I flew down toward the New York skyline, and everything slowed. "Kronos," I mumbled. I glided my chariot above a tunnel, but then the tunnel began to shake. I soared up, but stayed close enough to see a fight I hadn't noticed before.

I gasped when I recognized the warriors. My own children were in the middle of the battle. I saw the young man I now recognized as Percy wave them back. He was yelling, "Retreat, I'll hold them!" They turned to run when Kronos hit the already unstable bridge.

Everything and everybody flew backwards, I could feel the pure power wave nock me off balance even up here. My kids were almost to the end of the bridge, and it was taking ever single ounce of my willpower not to fly down there and pile them into my chariot.

They finally made it to the edge, and hid behind a bunch of cars farther back, I let out my breath, and tried to steady my racing heart.

But that's when I saw him.

Michael. My brave little Michael. On top of a suspension cable, with a loaded arrow. Percy screamed my thoughts, "Michael go!"

They had a quick argument, for which I was to far away to hear. But before I could get closer, Percy plunged his bronze sword into the bridge, and drew it out, revealing a spring of water.

The entire bridge began to crumble, I silently cheered, but then I saw the problem, Michael's suspension cable was attached to the crumbling rocks, and began to tangle in the mess.

I bit my tongue so hard I could taste blood. I couldn't shout to Percy to save him, because of Zeus.

_You know as well as I do, you don't mess with a demi-gods fate. So no interfering._

I couldn't look away. So I watched, with a plummeting heart, as my poor Michael fell, and the world fell on him.

Percy turned to thank my brilliant son, but was stopped when he saw the lone bow a few feet away from the rubble. "No!" He screamed, he started to dig, but stopped and looked at the river. Then yelled, with frustration.

He had a pained expression on his face, but that was nothing compared to me. I watched at he told the rest of my kids to keep searching, but there was nothing they could do. It was done.

I collapsed in my chariot, holding my head in my hands. I tried to block everything out, tried to escape this misery, but it came back, each time a pang in my chest, getting stronger. Stronger.

I remember the first time I had held baby Mikey. He was so tiny, with a face like his mothers, but his eyes had been mine. "Send him to Camp-Half-Blood, when he gets older." I had told Laura.

"He's gonna be a hero," she had whispered, while watching him sleep. I hadn't known it then, but she was right. Like she always was.

I stood up. _Be strong for Michael. _I turned my chariot toward the East. Before I went back to war with Typhon, I was going to bring up the sun.

And so I did. I rose the sun, for my son.


End file.
